Compassion and the Templar
by SammiKC
Summary: Behind the scenes of the events of the Blight and the events in Kirkwall, a Templar and a Mage fall in love only to face opposition and hate in the world around them. However, their roles are much more important than either realize.


{ So, I haven't been on FF in...a year? My family lost our home three times and we were living out of a hotel...then I got to college and had to deal with a lot of personal stuff. Well, I found this old computer and finally fixed it...I found all my old fanfics and thought it would be great to try them again. Here is a new one that is almost completely OC, but I will also be working on Not in Boston and Rose again!}

1 year before the Hero of Fereldan came to arms against the darkspawn...

Calder had been a Templar for little under a year before being assigned to the Circle in Fereldan. He was a tall man, taller than many Fereldans, broad shoulders, dark hair and tanned skin, with strong Rivaini features. He was the only one he had seen in Fereldan. He understood it was rare, mostly because Rivainis weren't Andrastians if they were actually from Rivain, which he wasnt. Until the point he was made a templar he hadn't really cared much about the religious ramifications of his lifestyle. He had originally started his career with a chantry, finally paying enough attention to learn the truth behind the church. He didn't like what he had seen, but the moment he had mentioned it, he found himself transferred to the Circle.

It was the most boring job he had ever anticipated having as a Templar. He was assigned different posts monthly, given the task of watching over the mages. He wasn't really allowed to communicate to anyone besides giving orders or warnings. He stood there, in place, or shuffled from one side of the tower to the other and back again, all day. The other Templars were friendly enough, but they were as tired of working at the tower as the mages were of having them there. Those who were lucky enough to be given the duty of chasing down runaways or maleficar were those with much more experience then Calder or the others, and rarely associated with them. Also, heaven forbid he try to befriend a mage.

Too bad they made the new guy do the night rounds.

He was in charge of the second shift, the last one before the morning. He started in the library, lantern in hand, when he entered he first said, " If someone is in here, you best come out now and go to bed before there's trouble." of course, he didn't get a reply. Nothing happened and he would have left non the wiser if she hadn't sneezed.

"Hello?" was all he could think to ask. If it were real danger, he wasn't prepared. The night guards didn't wear their heavy armor, but they did carry their swords. Of course he could also use his Templar abilities, but he was trying to stay away from lyrium addiction. Yes, sometimes he questioned his own choice in professions.

"Oh sod it!" a female voice, muffled, exclaimed from somewhere near the far bookshelves. Calder slowly stepped closer, holding the lantern out, sword in his hand, but he couldn't see anythign beyond an empty study table and books.

"Where are you?" he asked, trying to add more severity to his voice. There was silence so he cleared his throat to speak,

"I said, where-" he stopped short and a face appeared out of the books in their shelves, then a head. It was a girl, a human, no older than 20. She had disheveled curly brown hair, but the rest of her face was shadowed.

" They finally replaced Tarrin? Good, he was too loud," she said in a calm voice.

"What?" Mages didn't normally act like this in front of Templars, especially caught doing something worth reprimanding.

"Come on, let's talk in here, now that I've been caught I might as well make one attempt to bribe you," her form slowly retreated back into the bookcase. Just as he lowered his sword and moved to leave and find someone to tell, her head popped back out. " Oh, seriously, it is just an enchantment, damped my magic if you really want to." Calder thought about it for a moment. Surely if she was just a normal mage, none of his comrades would be ok with him bothering them this late. So, against his better judgment he walked up to the case as she disappear again, and pressed his hand to the spines of the books in front of him. The bookcase was solid, not an illusion, but his fingers slide easily through them, as if he were the one with no substance. In one giant lunge forward he flung himself entirely through.

His foot caught on something and he stumbled, falling to his knees on soft carpet, head smacking the side of a strong wooden table.

"Are you alright?" the girl was at his side, kneeling down to help him up. It took him a moment to clear his head and stand to view his surroundings. It was a small room, with only enough room for a table with a lamp, a desk covered in books and papers, and a small cot and privy bucket. There was a tall, thin opening, a window, that let moonlight poor in.

"Where is this?" he asked her, forgetting any authority he was suppose to have. She smiled at him and he finally got a good look at her. At first he thought she was elven, she was tiny, slim, even waifish, but her hair was tucked behind perfectly round ears, her face was a round heart shaped, and her eyes were large and heavy lidded.

Her eyes, he felt his mouth go dry. Maker, her eyes were the whitest gray he had ever seen. He remembered who she was, one of the masses of mages who studied under his gaze during the lunch shift. She was blind.

"Before you say anything, yes I am blind, well, normally blind. Mostly," she shrugged and sat down on the cot, picking up a book and waving her hand to the desk. He sat down, his head still swimming from the fall.

"How can you be mostly blind?" he asked her watching her eyes blink and scan the pages in front of her. Without even looking at him she replied,

"A demon stole my eyesight but the spirit of compassion restored them, only, they only work in the moonlight," she turned a page, thin fingers brought to her lips and down on the page. Calder averted his eyes to the small yet intimate action.

"A demon stole your eyesight?"

"Before I was brought to the circle after an escape attempt, I was taken in by a hedge witch, she dealt with demons and tried to give me to one. He tried, but I fought back. He would have succeeded, we were in the fade at the time, but a spirit stopped him. I was ten"

"This spirit is not a demon? I thought it was only demons who haunted the fade," he looked back at her to find her book placed on her lap and her eyes observing him. She looked confused.

"No, spirits are not evil, or I should say they do not desire the need to be in this realm as demons do, you are a Templar?" Calder found himself smiling at her question.

"Why? Do I look like a mage?" The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. "So these spirits, they help people?" he continued. She shook her head,

"Not always. Sometimes they just don't help you at all, or talk even. I guess this one felt that I was worth saving."

" What about your Harrowing? Can...well, someone like you effectively use magic?"

"The fade isn't a place were my eyes hinder me, and anyways the Harrowing was easy compared to that first demon. My eyes are only a real bother during the day, but even then I am a _mage_," she looked up to the sky through the window.

"So you come here to use the moonlight? To this...place?" he asked.

"Yes, I found it during my apprenticeship. I felt the enchantment and was able to use it to get here. That's what I am best at, discovering enchantments and magic with my senses. Probably has something to do with the eyes," she snorted and looked back at him. "Which is why I have to wonder if you really are a Templar. You don't reek of lyrium and your body isn't absolutely littered in anti-magic charms. Not to mention since you came in here you haven't once told me that I'm a danger to myself and others, even after the bits about the spirit of compassion." She caught him off guard, and Calder felt himself wanting to admit he wasn't the best Templar of the bunch. Something about the way she looked at him made him weary, however, to divulge his weaknesses to her. When he didn't reply she reached out a hand and he flinched.

"Are you afraid of me?" she wondered. Her fingers brushed the lump and bruise on his head. "Who ever heard of a Templar who didn't dampen a mages magic when he felt afraid?" Something warm and tingly pushed its way through his skin, eliminating the pain and dull ache he had ignored before. Her hair caught the moon, her eyes glowing, skin translucent, a scent similar to parchment and vanilla drifted to him by their closeness. Her hand dropped but he caught it, pulling her closer, her knees gently hitting the carpet at his feet.

" I am not afraid of you, your magic, nor this spirit of yours," he whispered, his heart beating in his chest when her lips widened in surprise.

"I am not afraid of Templars either," she replied in an equally soft whisper. There was no bite to it, no emotion besides that of attraction. Calders free hand fell behind her neck, clutching the messy hair gently. They both inched their way until their faces were only a breath apart.

"Who are you?" he finally asked her, ignoring the screaming in his head that told him to stop. It sounded a lot like the sisters of the chantry who raised him.

" It's Ilosia," she replied, briefly grimacing.

"Ilosia," he repeated before closing the distance between them and kissing her.

{Aha OK, so that's a start right? I want to bring this story all the way through the blight and the events at Kirkwall and into the war with the Templar's. I plan on having it all take place from the outside of the events in the game, how these two deal with it all and find their own destinies! If you would like to beta, let me know! I am not great with sentence structure and grammar. I'm a writer, not an editor.}


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